


Snatching Sweets

by Renabe



Category: RWBY
Genre: Family, Fluff and Humor, M/M, everyone is a brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-23
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-13 04:09:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29645571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Renabe/pseuds/Renabe
Summary: Don’t worry about it.Clover stares skeptically at the message on his scroll, brow furrowed in obvious worry as he types a reply asking what his partner is up to.Not up to anything, lucky charm. See you soon.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 8
Kudos: 49





	Snatching Sweets

**Author's Note:**

> This is for a Fable February challenge in the Kampire. Each week has its own prompt, and I am late as hell, but maybe I'll get to them all at some point.
> 
> Prompt 1: "Write a story with the last text you sent"

_Don’t worry about it._

Clover stares skeptically at the message on his scroll, brow furrowed in obvious worry as he types a reply asking what his partner is up to.

_Not up to anything, lucky charm. See you soon._

He doesn’t believe that for a second, knowing exactly what kind of scheming brat Qrow is. The only thing he can never seem to tell is whether the man is plotting some sort of sweet gift or an elaborate prank. Every time he thinks he has it figured out, Qrow manages to surprise him.

And boy was he in for a surprise.

A crow’s caw startles him, and he looks up to see the bird diving toward him. It shifts forms in the air, and Qrow lands a little roughly, scrabbling to right himself as he grabs Clover’s hand and takes off running.

“What’s the hurry,” he asks, plenty able to keep up, but a little concerned why there might be a need to do so.

“Don’t ask questions you don’t want answers for.” A halfhearted warning. He’s too busy mentally planning their route for anything more. Left ahead, one block, and then a right. Then they’d be safe. Probably.

With a response like that, now he _needs_ to know. “Qrow, what did you do?”

Qrow tugs Clover around another corner, spying his destination ahead. Almost there, so he compromises and offers a short answer. “Semblance practice.”

Vague, but it is enough to tell him something went _wrong_. Except that the huntsman shows no signs of failure or remorse. Perhaps a slight fear for his life that sends adrenaline through his veins and has him almost exuding a confident and thoroughly entertained air about him. Ah, so something went intentionally wrong.

“I suppose a congratulations is in order,” Clover prods playfully as Qrow all but yanks them both inside a certain noodle shop. “So who are you hiding from?”

Catching his breath is even harder as he laughs. Finally the boy scout is asking the right question, but Qrow hasn’t the air to answer this time. Clover shakes his head and tugs the hand in his along until they’ve found their usual table and sit.

Before they can so much as receive menus, the door to the shop is flung open, a flurry of petals wooshing in and revealing one very angry Ruby Rose at their table. Hands on her hips as she glowers at her uncle, and he at least has the sense to look a little contrite. Only a little, though.

“Uncle Qrow, that was my _last_ cookie you stole!”

“Stole? I _saved_ that cookie from being wasted when you tripped and it flung out of your hand.”

He’s trying so hard not to laugh, he really is, and the obvious strain does nothing but cause silver eyes to narrow further. Ruby knows full well she did not trip on her own, but as much as she can tell her uncle used his semblance on purpose and for fun, she still doesn’t want to say it was his fault. Luckily, she doesn’t have to.

“Dessert before dinner, Qrow? Even though we already had plans?” Clover plays right along, pushing down his own laughter to add a hint of scandalised disbelief. “I guess you won’t be hungry, then. Ruby, shall I order you a bowl of noodles instead?”

Dark eyebrows trail northward, and Qrow almost protests, a half formed scoff catching in his throat. He lets out a defeated huff instead, attempting a scowl but hardly able to fight the wry grin that crosses his expression. He’s not the only brat around, he knows, and there’s a sort of pride that sits in his chest at how easily Clover fits into their growing family of trouble makers.

Ruby places a finger to her chin, pretending to think it over. “Tempting… though I was _really_ looking forward to that cookie.”

Qrow snorts, even more proud of his niece for pushing to squeeze more out of them. And now she’s trying not to laugh too, fist over her mouth failing to hide the way lips quirk upward despite her best efforts. It’s all Clover can do not to smile too wide at the similarities between uncle and niece, finding it utterly adorable. He clears his throat to amend his offer.

“Tell you what. How about you invite the rest of the gang, and after dinner we’ll go get cookies, ice cream, anything you want, on us. Deal?”

Qrow’s eyes are like saucers, knowing exactly how much his kids can eat and what kind of tab that’ll run them. Ruby is absolutely beaming as she offers thanks, giving each of them a hug before she scurries off outside to call her team.

Red meets green, and Qrow releases a heavy sigh before tapping the other’s shoe with his own. Clover laughs and taps back.

“You know you’re gonna be broke by the end of the night, yeah?”

“Better that than losing my partner over a cookie because he couldn’t wait until dinner.”

“Hey, now, it was for a good cause. I think my control is getting a lot better.”

And it’s hard to argue with that, especially as Qrow’s laugh at his childish prank settles, revealing the self-assured smile at being able to believe the words he speaks. He knows he’s improving, and he isn’t so hard on himself these days. That is worth far more than all the lien in his wallet, Clover thinks, reaching across the table to pinch a cheek.

“Okay, but next time don’t steal snacks from your niece, old man.”

Qrow nips at a finger as that hand retreats, then plops his chin in his palm, elbow resting on the table. He sends Clover a dangerous look. “Guess I’ll just steal them from you instead, _old man_.”

“Oh, and how do you plan to do that,” Clover challenges eagerly.

A challenge Qrow would accept if not interrupted by the sound of hungry teenagers arriving to collect their promised meal. Ah well. There’ll be time enough for that later, he thinks. Standing to move to a bigger table that will accommodate their whole family, he shoots a quick glance back at Clover.

“Don’t worry about it.”


End file.
